WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue -
Chapter 37: Past Events
‘Cam. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’
‘What would you have me do?’ he argued back. ‘Just leave?’
‘Why not?’
‘How could you suggest such a thing? You know what they do to deserters. Do you want to see me killed?’
‘Of course not! But…’
‘Tala’ Cam said, lifting her chin carefully up. ‘You’re overreacting.’
‘Cam please’ Tala said. ‘I’ve never felt this way before…there’s something very wrong about this, I just know it.’
‘It’s just your mind playing tricks on you’ he told her dismissively, moving through the kitchen of their home. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve done this a thousand times.’
‘This time will be different’ she said stubbornly following him.
‘Why? Because you had a funny dream? Oh Tala’ he shook his head
‘Don’t be so condescending’ she snapped, giving him a shove. ‘I mean it. Something isn’t right.’
There came a knock on the door behind him, Cam glanced around to see his good friend standing there.
‘I don’t want to interrupt’ Flynn said, ‘but we’ve got to go now. They won’t accept us being late.’
Cam turned back to Tala.
‘Let’s not fight now’ he said to her. ‘Please.’
She huffed at him, pursing her lips, but submitted to his words.
She uncrossed her arms, moving towards him and kissing him deeply. Cam held her tight, feeling the touch of her skin, smelling her perfume, hearing her breath.
‘Wait for me’ he told her.
‘I will.’
‘I love you Tala.’
‘I love you too.’
He let her go, turning his back on her and striding towards his waiting friend, grabbing his sword by the door as he went. He left his home and mounted his horse tied up outside, the two of them rode away without looking back.
‘I hope everything is alright’ Flynn said to him as their horses rode at a trot.
‘Of course it is’ Cam replied confidently.
‘What was she worrying about?’
‘Oh’ Cam shrugged. ‘She said says she’s got a bad feeling about today.’
‘Oh’ Flynn replied. ‘That’s strange.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I had the same feeling as well…’
The two rode through the busy winding streets of their city. Trotting their horses past the merchants with their spices, calling out to potential buyers, and the Holy Ghosts dressed in deep gold that walked to the temples with their heads down and hands together. Above them a voice sang out to the city, letting everyone know that it was midday and time for prayers.
The clip clop of the horses hooves ceased as the two came to a halt, joining other members of their party.
The men were all gathered within minutes, and their General led them onwards to their destination.
‘Do you think we will be back by teatime?’ Flynn asked Cam as they rode side by side across the dried earth at the back of the procession.
‘Sure’ Cam replied. ‘This should be an easy one.’
‘A rebel camp?’
‘They won’t know we’re coming’ Cam said with confidence. ‘We have that advantage against them. And they’re disorganised and poorly equipped. This should be a breeze.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘You’re as bad as my wife’ Cam shook his head in amusement.
‘These orders came directly from the Red King’ Flynn reminded him. ‘He normally doesn’t get involved with this sort of affair, and especially with a small group of rebels……why do you think they’re so important?’
‘Enough of this’ Cam sighed wearily. ‘Don’t talk. Just ride.’
It was a few hours ride to their target, and when the band of about eighty men reached their destination, the attack began immediately.
When it was all over, Cam and Flynn and the other soldiers that had accompanied them, milled about in confusion.
‘Where are all the soldiers?’ Flynn asked loudly.
Cam glanced across the field of many tents. The only figures they had seen now were old men and young boys and women, many of which now lay dead.
Flynn pushed over a cooking pot as he walked by, turning on the spot and walking back.
‘Where are the enemy?’ he called to Cam.
Cam couldn’t answer, instead stood rigid in silence, and then they both heard crying. Their attention both moved towards the tent nearest them, and Cam approached. When he pulled back the sheet that covered the entrance, he saw two women there, surrounded by children. One woman was heavily pregnant, and the other held a tiny baby in her arms.
‘What is going on here’ Cam whispered in shock. ‘Where are all the rebels?!’ he shouted to the women huddled at the back of the tent.
They didn’t answer, merely sobbed in fear, squeezing their eyes tight shut, and hugging the children to them.
‘What is going on here?!’ Cam cried striding away from the tent, shouting to the air, speaking to everyone, and no one.
A short time later, an important official arrived on the scene, addressing all the soldiers.
‘You are all hereby under arrest, on the orders of the Red King.’
Cam and Flynn were thrown on their knees and shackled, as were all the soldiers around them, their General included.
‘NO!’ Cam cried out in panic. ‘There’s been a mistake!’
They were all transported in chains to the nearest prison, where they were then transferred to another prison.
They walked in a chained line through the open wire fence. Cam watched as their General moved to address one of the guards, pawing at his chest.
‘Please! There’s been a misunderstanding! We were ordered to do this!’
Another guard moved behind the General, plunging a knife downwards through his shoulder and shoving him aside, killing him in seconds.
‘Move along!’ the guard called to the other prisoners as he cleaned his blade. ‘And no stalling!’
Cam tore his eyes away from what he had just seen, his body beginning to shake in terror.
They all saw another terrible thing as they were led to their bunker.
A box that was too small for a person to fully sit in or stand or lie down in. There was a small hole in one side, where a face was staring through, a dead face. The face was gaunt and the eyes sunken. The body looked like it had been dead for several days.
In another box, could be heard chanting. The same words over and over again.
‘Kill me kill me kill me kill me…’
When they saw the face of the one who chanted, it was that of a boy of about sixteen.
The next few days when they spoke to other prisoners were even worse.
‘There are five hundred and six prisoners here’ one man said. ‘Nearly half the men here have been cleared to leave, but still remain. That man’ the prisoner that spoke pointed, ‘the one over there. He’s been here for eleven years and six months, despite no evidence for his supposed crime, and not even a trial. The one over there’ he pointed in another direction, ‘he’s been on a hunger strike for seven months.’
‘How come he isn’t dead?’ Cam asked.
‘He is being force fed’ the nameless prisoner answered.
‘Why is he on hunger strike?’
‘He is in protest’ the prisoner answered, ‘for his friend, who is being held in indefinite detention.’
‘Why are we here?’ Cam asked.
’We are not being held for who we are, but for their idea of who we are.’
It was many days later, when Cam was shackled and hooded. He could not see. He could not hear.
He stayed this way for seventy two hours, until he was released.
‘There is pain everywhere’ one prisoner told him afterwards. ‘I don’t want to die here.’
Some days later, the beatings began, sometimes in the middle of the night and without warning. And it was several days after that, that Cam was approached again by a guard, carrying a hood and shackles.
‘No please not again! Get away from me!’
Some days after that, Cam began his hunger strike.
He was force-fed by a tube through his nose. It was an agonizing thing to experience; sometimes the liquid would go to his lungs by accident.
‘Please….’ He whispered to the guard beside him one day as he lay tied down to the bed, ‘…just kill me….’
An unknown time after that, they were freed.
Soldiers from outside the prison swarmed the place one day, tearing down fences and freeing the prisoners. With them, came men and women dressed in deep gold robes. Holy Ghosts. Religious figures.
One of them took Cam by the hand, helping him to stand. He was emaciated now, far beyond even a shadow of his former self.
‘It’s alright’ the Holy Ghost said to him with a kind smile. ‘You are safe now.’
He walked with Cam, holding his arm out for Cam to hold, giving him support as they moved slowly. Free from his mask and shackles, Cam headed slowly to the outside world.
Beside him Flynn had also been freed from his own confinements. He lifted his head high, smiling at the sun.
‘Fantastic’ Flynn said, guided by another Holy Ghost. ‘Lovely day…the sunlight….unbelievable!’
‘This place is beautiful’ Cam said in a hoarse voice. ‘I thought it was ugly before. Is that all the flowers….? I’m hearing the birds…seeing the clouds….the green and the yellow….the buttercups………I’ve seen nothing for so long.’
All of the prisoners were assessed after that, and given whatever medical care they needed.
‘Why has this happened to us?’ Cam groaned to the Holy Ghost, sitting before him at the table.
‘Politics’ the man replied simply. ‘Our king has a lot to answer for. Now can you list as many words as possible that begin with the letter F?’
Cam stared at him.
‘Umm……uuuuu…….’ His head sagged. ‘Finality.’
‘Good’ the Holy Ghost smiled encouragingly. ‘Any more?’
‘God no’ Cam shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. ‘I can’t think….’
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